All That They Wanted
by Nothing You Can Prove
Summary: As is almost tradition after three months together, Chloe Price and Rachel Amber end up playing a game.


**Sup guys. So… I was gonna use this for an OC thing but hey, why not Amberprice? Haven't written enough for the ship! (Not that there is ever enough for any ship :p) And I need something to tide me over for ep 3 and keep me sane from essay writing. So yeah, enjoy.**

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 **All That They Wanted**

 **August 2010 – Arcadia Bay Junkyard aka. American Rust**

Rays of afternoon sunlight filtered through the gently swaying trees. A slightly chilly breeze rustled their leaves, some fluttering to the floor in spiral patterns. For a junkyard, filled with unwanted and often broken debris, it sure was pretty here. Various woodland animals encroached the border of nature and manmade landscapes, scurrying in the trash for lost treasures.

It was quiet… or had been before a beat up yellow truck parked up at the gate. Returning to its original home. Birds scattered at the sound, a young doe darting back into the woods. The vehicle crunched to a halt – it still needed some work – punk rock music blared from the speakers. It crackled with static, the two passengers inside used to the feedback by now.

Once the truck had come to a stop, the driver – a tall girl, blonde hair with a solitary blue streak and mischievous eyes – switched off the radio. She passed a knowing glance at her blonde-haired friend, met with striking hazel.

How many times had they been here in the past several months? Too many to count, that was for certain.

"So, ready to rock and roll?" the hazel-eyed blonde asked with a smile.

Her smile could light up the world… or at least, they lit up Chloe Price's. That might sound cheesily romantic, and yes it kinda was, but true. Sometimes, life _was_ cringey. She knew… Max would agree.

Shaking the thought of her MIA childhood best friend, she gave a confident nod. " _Hella_ ready. I mean, look at me."

Rachel gave a sly smile, intense. "I am."

Not expecting that, Chloe froze up. Her heart sounded oddly prominent now, throat a little dry. Words refused to leave her lips, mouth hanging open slightly with no witty quip to offer. Rachel was the only person who could make her feel this way. Totally speechless and flustered. It annoyed her so much sometimes.

The moment lasted for a few seconds, broken when the modelesque blonde slid out of the passenger's seat. Chloe was left breathless for just a moment, swiftly following her. Despite her best effort, she could feel a slight heat creep up her face. So much for her punk rock image…

It had been three months since she met Rachel Amber at the old lumbermill Firewalk concert. Several _crazy_ months. So much had happened – some good, some bad, all fucking insane. None of it she would give up, no matter what you offered her.

"Are you actually coming sometime today?" Rachel called out to her, Chloe only now realizing she had stopped about a foot from the entrance to their junkyard hideout.

Stepping inside, she turned to her… whatever she and Rachel were – girlfriends? – and offered up a suggestive smirk. "Well… depends on what happens later."

That made the shorter girl chuckle as she moved aside some papers on a makeshift bench they had scrounged up from an old plank and some bricks. "Cheap shot, dirty shot. I like it."

Giving the space a pat beside her, Rachel smirked. Enticing. Before she knew it, Chloe had sat down. It was practically on instinct now. The blonde just had this… energy that drew you in. Like a magnet, but with people. Everyone gravitated towards her, even those who supposedly hated her guts. No need to mention names. Fuck, even she had been drawn in by Rachel's obvious charms. Not that she was complaining…

Rachel let out a soft sigh, leaning back on her hands. She examined their little sanctuary, already more like home than her house had ever been. Or ever would be. Chloe had been busy with her marker: a perfect environment for an aspiring tagger like her. Although, with no risk factor at getting caught for graffitiing anything here it might not be _as_ fun. A few photos were dotted around, all of them. Chronicling mischief and adventure. Often both.

Done looking, Rachel turned to face Chloe. "So, I have a new game for us to play. Marry, fuck or kill."

Blue eyes lit up with impish glee. "If there is actual murder involved, I'm game."

That made Rachel chuckle, a pleasant sound that warmed Chloe's very soul. She had such a pretty laugh. "Unfortunately, no…" she paused, tilting her head slightly in thought then hitting the aspiring punk with a dazzling yet evil grin, "…yet."

Chloe snapped her fingers in mock disappointment. "Damn… and here I was getting my hopes up. I guess my Arcadia asshole murder spree will have to wait."

Her eagerness to get violent made Rachel's grin widen. "You have to wait until they are _least_ expecting it. The time will come." She nudged the taller girl's shoulder, getting back on track. "So, game. One person says three names, the other has to decide who they would prefer to marry, fuck or kill."

"You do like your games, huh?" Chloe recalled their first planned – might be too strong a word since it was pretty spontaneous – journey. Hitching a ride on the train to the Overlook Park. Two truths, one lie. "Okay, hit me with it."

"Hmm…" Rachel stroked her chin, pretending to think. She already knew the three names she would pose first but wanted to encourage suspense. "Okay, Mikey, Victoria and Nathan."

"Wow, okay…" Chloe's eyebrows raised, then she frowned slightly before answering. "Well, guess I'm marrying Mikey then. He's the only person I'll be able to put up with for longer than five seconds. Uh, guess I'll kill Prescott and fuck Victoria."

The answer was predictable yet still amused Rachel. "Damn, Price. You like playing with fire, huh?"

Chloe shrugged. "Hey, she might be a bitch but at least she's hot. And no fucking way am I touching Nathan Prescott… unless it's to like bludgeon him to death."

"So violent, but good reason. I approve of your answer. Now, your turn." Rachel prepared herself for her choices, wondering who Chloe would pick out for her.

The wannabe punk took a moment to consider, trying to weigh up the options equally to those Rachel had given. "Right, uh, oooh I got one. Skip, Steph and Wells."

Not hesitating, the blonde gave her first response. "Sorry Principal Wells, but you are getting the chop." The next two she thought more about. "I'd probably fuck Steph and marry Skip."

"The first one I was expecting but…" Chloe was a little surprised by Rachel's choice, if she was honest. Skip wasn't marriage material, in her opinion. Steph would be _much_ better.

Having expected the confusion, Rachel explained, "Hey, Skip's a decent guy… and if Pisshead takes off, I'm gonna be loaded. If not, I'll run back to Steph. Hell, I'd probably go back to her anyway. She's too nerdy and cute to pass up. When I'm not already taken, at least." She added as an afterthought, winking at Chloe and getting a vaguely embarrassed reaction in response. "I can get that divorce cash and run off to LA or something."

Understanding the reason now, Chloe's eyes narrowed. "Okay, something tells me you may have thought about this just a little too much."

Rachel tucked hair behind her ear, exposing her blue feather earring. "What can I say, I like to have plans in place. My turn again… right, Samantha, Elliot and… me."

Much like Rachel, Chloe's first response was almost instant. "Well, I've had my fun with Elliot… sorry dude, but not enough for you to live."

"Ouch, brutal," Rachel chuckled.

"And… guess I'd fuck Samantha – jeez, that's a weird thought – and…" she hesitated, shuffling a little, "…marry you."

The earnest and uncharacteristically shy answer inspired a mildly teasing smile. "Aw, ain't that sweet. Can I count that as an official proposal?"

"Even if it was, gonna have to wait for Oregon to play catch up." Honestly, Chloe would be totally fine if that particular outcome happened one day. Not that she would ever be stupid enough to get hitched. "Now, Drew, Ms. Grant and David."

Rachel's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Oh god, that one's mean. Welp, no way am I getting within a foot of David… unless it's to push him off a cliff." They both smiled at that mental image. "Guess I'd fuck Drew – to get it over and done with – and marry Ms. Grant. At least she might help me blow shit up and make it fun."

"Fuck yeah!" Chloe exclaimed approvingly. "So, while I'm living in nerd heaven with Mikey and you, you've got a rockstar and explosives expert… seems like I got the bum end of the deal."

Gasping, Rachel put her hand on her chest in mock hurt. "Uh, rude. You'd be lucky to land me."

The blue-streaked girl managed a smug smirk. "What? I haven't already?"

"Ha, smooth Price. In answer to your question… let me show you." Not waiting for a reply, she leaned in and claimed lips she had kissed umpteen times before.

Even now, Chloe was still uncertain. Like every time was the first. It was pretty cute. Rachel remembered the first time all those months ago. After the play, wandering the moonlit streets and pondering their future escape plan. While it had yet to happen, she was determined it would.

One day.

Their lips collided and melded in a tender kiss. Chloe held the other girl close, letting her tongue slid in. She would never get tired of this. Of Rachel. How could she? The blonde was an endless source of entertainment. Someone she could trust in this hellhole. Hell, the _only_ person.

As for Rachel, Chloe was a breath of fresh air. She had been there when no-one else was, helped her through the rough spots. As someone who'd experienced more than her fair share of those, when the taller girl said that she understood the pain, she _really_ meant it.

Neither of them was perfect, far from it, but at least they were trying to pick up each other's broken pieces, fitting them back together as best they could. They knew _someone_ gave a shit.

Right now, that was all that they wanted.

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 **When I get more time (and work through some of my old shit), there may be longer stuff. Until next time!**


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